Thus reassured, Amy fell asleep, while Eloise sat by her until startled by the entrance of Mrs. Biggs.  That worthy woman had been busy telling the servants everything she knew about Eloise since she came to Crompton, and that she had always mistrusted she was somebody out of the common.  Then, as Eloise did not appear, and the carriage from Miller’s was still waiting at a dollar and a half an hour, it occurred to her that if Eloise should not prove to be somebody out of the common she would have to pay the bill, as she had ordered the turn-out.  Going to Amy’s room, she walked in unannounced, and asked, “Be you goin’ home with me, or goin’ to stay?”

“I don’t know what I am to do,” Eloise said, starting to her feet.

Amy decided for her.  Mrs. Biggs had roused her, and, hearing what was wanted, she protested so vehemently against Eloise’s leaving her even for an hour, that Mrs. Biggs departed without her, thinking to herself as she rode in state behind the fleet horses, “It beats the Dutch what luck some folks have.  I’ve lost my boarder, and Ruby Ann has got the school, just as I knew she would, and mebby I’ll have to pay for the rig.  I wonder how long I’ve had it.”

CHAPTER IV

THE SHADOW OF DEATH

This was on Saturday, and by Monday the whole town of Crompton, from District No. 5 to the village on the seashore, was buzzing with the news told eagerly from one to another.  The young girl who had sprained her ankle while coming to take charge of the school in District No. 5 had, it was told, turned out to be the daughter of Mrs. Amy, and was at the Crompton House with her mother, who had thought her dead.  This some believed and some did not, until assured by Mrs. Biggs, who, having done her washing on Saturday, was free on Monday to call upon her neighbors and repeat the story over and over, ending always with, “I mistrusted from the first that she was somebody.”

The second piece of news was scarcely less exciting, but sad.  After his interview with Eloise, the Colonel had complained of nausea and faintness, and had gone early to bed.  Before going, however, he had asked if Eliza Ann were still in the house.  An idea once lodged in his brain was apt to stay, and Eliza Ann had taken too strong a hold upon his senses to be easily removed.

“Bring her here,” he said.

She came at once and asked what she could do for him.

“Sit down,” he said.  “You seem to be lame.”

He had evidently forgotten about the accident, and Eloise did not remind him of it, but sat down while he catechised her with regard to what she had told him of herself.  Some of his comments on Homer Smith were not very complimentary, and this emboldened Eloise to tell him who her real father was.

“Thank God!” he said emphatically.  “I’m glad you are not that rascal’s, and because you are not you can stay with Amy and fare as she fares.  But why did she think you dead?”